


kingdom come

by sharpbluejay (angelhalo)



Series: Romin Week 2021 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Choking, Collars, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Deal with a Devil, Desperation, Dom/sub Undertones, Future State inspired, M/M, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Shower Sex, Villains win AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 14:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30040395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelhalo/pseuds/sharpbluejay
Summary: Batman was dead, and that meant it was a new day in Gotham, for all of them.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Jason Todd
Series: Romin Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209917
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge, Romin Week 2021





	kingdom come

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Villains Win AU 
> 
> I think it was @whispering_imp on twit that said they were treating fs like a villain’s win for Roman, which I've done a little bit! No knowledge of Future State needed just that everyone thinks Bruce is dead. This entire premise exists just to have a reason to get Jason into Roman's fur.
> 
> Also my biggest thanks to Plato for giving this a read.

Jason had tears in his eyes. 

It’s the first thing he noticed. It helped that the boy’s bright red helmet and the absurd little domino he kept under it were both gone, leaving his wide bright blue-green eyes on display, shiny and exposed. His curly hair all filthy, the white streak he liked to hide almost disappeared under the dirt.

If Roman didn’t know better, he would say the boy had crawled out of his grave _again_. 

“Romy,” He started and Roman didn’t roll his eyes, did scoff a little, liked the way Jason cringed as the word fell out of his mouth. They tried that game before. Jason by his side and in his bed, and it ended with him having to burn his favorite club and Jason on three different hit lists.

But now, as he looked at him, fidgeting with his hands, his lips wobbling, he knew exactly what he needed. 

“Jason,” Roman said back, the young man’s name sliding out of his mouth with none of the menace that it should have. “I see my men still let you in,”

“Don’t get on them too hard. I slipped by when they went out for a piss,” Even with the small fake smile he gave, it was so obvious that he wanted to close the distance between them. Searching for something he felt only Roman could give. He let him stand. 

“I guess I can’t fire them given the state that we’re in,” Jason’s face fell as he curled into himself. He didn’t use to be this easy to read, or maybe he knew him now. 

“So you already heard, right?” There was a tremble in his lips as he asked. That ridiculous little East End accent coming out in each word. 

“Are you asking me if I heard about the Bat?” His entire body shuddered like he was trying to force down a sob and Roman almost pitied him, _almost_. “Yes, I’ve heard,” Any normal person would have said, ‘I’m sorry about your loss,’ but Roman had never been _normal_. He watched as the boy crumbled, looking at him with those wet vibrant glowing eyes. His hands clenching and unclenching like he didn’t know if he wanted to reach out or strike out. Roman didn’t give him the time to decide. 

It’s too easy to stand and pull Jason into his arms, run his leather gloves over his grimy hair, and tuck his head into his shoulder and pretend like he didn’t realize the boy was crying. Soft, wet sobs shook his entire form.

He was only here because there was no one else for him to go to. His daddy was dead after all, and Roman was someone who had extensive experience with that himself. 

“Tell me,” He said after a second. Jason hiccupped, buried his face further into his suit. He didn’t think about the tear tracks against the white silk. If this had been years ago, he would have made Jason take it to the dry cleaners himself, would have held this moment of weakness above his head, but nothing was quite the same anymore in their little city. So he held the boy a little tighter, the heat of his body present, him always burning much hotter than anyone should. 

“It should have been me,” His words, predictable, muffled by the cloth on his mouth. Roman patted his head with a ‘there, there’ meant to patronize more than he meant it to comfort as he kept talking. “If I was there, maybe I could have-”

“We’re all doing everything we can under this new _reign_ ,” He practically spit out, interrupting the boy’s pity party, unable to keep the rage that this situation inspired in him out of his mouth. He rebuilt entire operations, had lost so many damn men to the system, everyone dropping like flies. “No one told Batman to go out and-”

“He wasn’t wearing his suit,” He blinked as Jason looked up at him. His eyes rimmed red, his mouth in a thin line, nodded to tell the boy to keep talking. “They hunted him down like a dog, it wasn’t-”

“It wasn’t fair,” Roman snarled. The boy flinching in his arms as Roman’s voice shifted with fury. “Is that what you were about to say to me? What about anything in this situation screams _fairness_ to you, Jason?”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand.” There was Jason’s bite back. “You’ve always hated him, you hate Batman-”

“The way any of us do,” Hating Batman had been a Gotham tradition at that point. “The way _you_ did. It’s the reason you sold your _family_ out in the first place.” He recoiled, tried to pull himself back from Roman, and he held tight onto him, digging his nails into his dirty clothes. “You think I didn’t know?” He asked, a laugh bubbling up in his throat. “You think I didn’t know why they knew where _Bruce Wayne_ was?” Even saying his old schoolmate’s name made him sick, irked him. It should have been one of them who took him down, not this bullshit. 

“I didn’t,” He tried to deny with his eyes wide.

“Oh yes you did,” Roman’s voice dropped as he ran a gloved thumb over his mouth, pink lips gaping, the boy’s eyes shining and wet and glowing bright green with grief and frustration. “I have to give it to you, Jason, you certainly don’t do anything by half measures.” 

He always gave his all in everything he did, whether it was beating the crap out of someone who hadn’t paid up, staging a mob-style hit, or ruining Roman’s day. Jason was a sharp, bloody blade he had loved to wield, pointing him in any direction he chose and watching the chaos that unfolded. He was actually going to make Jason his heir because of it, but of course, the Hood had to go and ruin everything.

“I guess I already knew that considering what you did to _me_.” His hand curled into Jason’s hair, his gloves sliding through the dirty little strands and pulling tight. He didn’t make a sound, he could always take the pain. “See, I know all about you. You hurt and betray everyone and then you end up just like _this_.” He pulled harder, the boy glaring hard at him as tears spilled down his cheeks. 

“Let’s not pretend like we don’t know why you’re here,” Black Mask said as he laced his other hand around the boy’s throat. “You have all this _guilt_ and _pain_ inside you because of what you’ve done, and you can’t blame _anyone else_ and you want me to make it all go away.” he clenched his hands tighter around his throat, his breathing difficult now. 

“You got your last _Daddy_ killed and came crawling right back to the only person who knows what to do with you.” Starred at those eyes as fury grew inside of them as he held his throat tight, Jason couldn’t even see the smile stretching across his face from behind his mask. 

No, he struggled, trying to breathe, shaking in his hands. Strangling someone always made him feel a little like a God, and Jason always allowed himself to be molded so _easily_. 

The boy went limp in his hands, so he relaxed his hold, let him breathe. Jason tore himself out of Roman’s grip, stood on the other side of his office breathing hard and glaring, full of the rage that marked his potential.

“Fuck you, you sick bastard,” Wrapped his arms around himself, avoided looking Roman in his eyes. “I only came here because I thought you-”

“Would understand,” He laughed at him, watching as the vigilante dug his fingernails into his arms to avoid lashing out. Smart. “Sure Jay baby,” He strolled to his desk and took his seat. “I understand plenty.” Rested his chin on his hand and watched in amusement as Jason seethed. “We can start a club, the neglected sons that killed their fathers.” 

“You’re a piece of shit,” But the anger in his voice didn’t hit the way it was supposed to. He wiped at his face, looked far younger than he was. “I should have never even come to you.”

“Yet you did,” Roman said, tapped his fingers on his desk, a rough little thing with no rhythm. Stalemate. His anger was still there, boiling. Even giving Jason that dressing down didn’t cool it. He still looked pathetic, a little like a drowned puppy, with his red-rimmed eyes and dirt in his hair.

On one hand, Roman wanted to dig his fingers into him and watch him bleed. On the other, they had work to do. He could cut into Jason all night, or he could let the boy talk himself right back into his hold. 

He leaned back in his desk chair; the wood creaking. Watched as Jason got his breathing back in order, pressing his hands to his eyes, and taking slow breaths. Other than his breathing, it was silent in the office. Soundproofing always came in handy. “So c’mon, spit it out,” Snapped his fingers. “Don’t waste my time.” 

Jason took one last deep breath, straightened his spine, and narrowed those green eyes of his to glare at him. Ah, there he was, a boy that Roman could negotiate with and not the morose one from before. 

“I wanted to know what we were doing to stop them.” It’s always ‘we’ with Jason, ‘our room’, ‘our business,’ like he had some stake in his empire and Roman scoffed. 

“We?” 

“Don’t play stupid,” He said, steel entering his voice. “I know you’re not happy about the way things are. It’s an anti-mask crusade and you’re the _Black Mask_. He’s fucking up your business.” Jason took the step forward this time, deliberately brought himself closer to the desk, his mouth thinning into a line. He was not a small man, broad and muscular, Roman had to lean back in his chair to avoid craning his neck. “You letting him get away with it.” 

“I’m adapting,” His mouth twitch behind the mask, shifting into a scowl.

“Not fast enough,” He was right in front of the desk now, his green eyes glowing with determination. “They’re going to shut you down like they shut down everyone else.” 

“Are you pitching to be my savior?” An abrupt laugh, ending before it began. “You’re the only one that knows how to stop all of this. Is that the best you can come up with?” 

Every time this brat showed up in his life, it was with offers too good to be true. Now he was screaming desperation. Which to be fair to him, this new era called for _desperate_ measures. Jason shook his head, his frown overtaking his entire face. 

“No,” Bowed his head, his hands going behind his back. Daddy’s little soldier indeed. “I’m actually hoping you do. You’ve lasted this long for a reason.” 

“You’re not here for me,” he didn’t reach out to touch Jason’s face like he wanted to, wanted to tilt his head up to see into those vibrant green eyes and tell if he was lying. “You just want revenge for your Daddy,” 

“Maybe I do,” Jason said, shaking his head. Revenge was how the Red Hood had made his name in the first place, tearing through Roman’s operation and Gotham in one fell swoop just to show up by Batman’s side months later. What a waste. 

“But you don’t care about that, do you, _Romy_?” He snorted a little, his face softening, looking like the boy that he never really was. “You just want me. Always have.” He leaned down, his hand finding a hold on Roman’s shoulder, bent down until his mouth ghosted Roman’s ear and said, “Admit it,” He whispered. “You _missed_ me.” 

If this was years ago, when Gotham was still Gotham and not this new Hell that had been fashioned, he would almost believe Jason. Even almost admit that he had sought to possess and ruin the boy, that he used to look over his shoulder, hoping to see his boy with his feet up on his desk, but that was years ago and Jason knew it. 

He crossed his arms, looked down on him with that dangerous glint in his eyes that Roman liked about him. “You help me bring him down. We’ll fix Gotham, and I’ll never leave you again. It’s a win-win situation for you.” Roman rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair. 

“You think a little cliche will be a good enough deal for me?” Jason sat his dirty little self right on the edge of his desk, cocked his head. 

“Yeah, I do.” He sighed. “You would have strangled me when I got in here otherwise,” Perhaps he should have. “but we both know that we love this city, and it’s _ours_ , not his.” He reached out to wrap Roman’s tie around his hand, the silk shifting. Roman’s eyes darting to his fingers and back up into those mesmerizing green eyes as he pulled him closer. “Help me take it back and I’ll be yours like you’ve always wanted.”

“Even if I said yes, I would just send you right back to him,” He hissed and Jason flinched, tried to pull his face away, Roman snatching his chin up before he got too far. “You would be _my_ little traitor to use as I see fit, a little spy, and we both know that you’re good at it.” He tapped at Jason’s chin. “I’ll _own_ you, and I won’t be nice,” He tried to nod and Roman let him go.

“Wasn’t expecting you to be.” Ever the cocky little brat. “I’ll report back to you every so often, help you tear them down from the inside, and if they catch on,”

“Well, you’ll just scurry back to Daddy where you know it’s safe,” Jason scowled as he leaned back in his chair, leaving the space beneath him empty but settled down on his knees in the space like Roman made it for him. It sent a nostalgic sense of warmth through him as Jason pressed his head to his thigh, blinked up at him with those green eyes.

“Any more details you want to hash out, or are we gonna seal this deal with a kiss?” He asked, placed his lips to the inseam of his pants as Roman looked down at him, ran a gloved hand across his cheek, held his face there for quite some time. Remembered the boy warming his cock under his desk for hours at a time.

“Go shower.” His voice low, his hand sliding from Jason’s face, noticing the boy’s minuscule movement as he tried to chase his hand. 

“Roman,” Jason never used to argue with him this much, sure there were the questions and the occasional back talk expected from him, but this was getting ridiculous. 

“Now,” He said, Jason’s mouth falling close with a snap. “You’re filthy, worse than a dog.”

“They made us dig through the swamp for his body.” The boy didn’t mean to tell him that with the expression of distaste crossing across his face, hadn’t planned on telling Roman how he came to be on his doorstep all dirt-covered and disheveled.

“Did you find it?” He clenched his jaw and looked away. “I don’t enjoy repeating myself, you used to be better trained than this,” was all Roman had to say for Jason to turn back to him, with his mouth open. 

“There was a-” He rolled his shoulders, blew out a breath of frustration. “Maybe.” He settled on, still in the tiniest bit of denial at the Bat’s demise. Considering their family’s propensity to keep coming back to life, his feelings were most likely valid. Pressed his face harder to Roman’s thigh. “We found a corpse, black hair, I don’t,” 

“That’s good,” Roman said, petting Jason’s hair, rewarding him for his answer, watched the boy tremble from the praise. “Go.” He said and watched as he pulled himself into a standing position. Slipped from the room without a word, or a glance back, knew where to go.

He kicked his heels up onto the dark wood of his desk. Flicked his lighter open with a click, the fire hissing as he lit his cigar. The first inhale in was always the best. Warmth settling in his lungs as he took a deep breath in, and released a plume of smoke, floating up around him, into his eyes, the haze filling his vision. 

The Bat was dead, and Jason was under his palm once again. 

Good.

Jason left his clothes, even as nasty as they were, folded on the chair in the room. Most likely remembering the distaste Roman had for his inclination for leaving his belongings sprawled anywhere. 

The boy had his head pressed against the tile of the shower; the water making his curls droop around his face, his face shadowed. He didn’t even react when Roman opened the bathroom door; the steam filtering out around him. He was obviously exhausted, needed someone to take care of him. 

There was no real response even as he stepped into the shower with him, Jason shifted to make space in the large luxurious shower with its glass and expensive tiles.

“Stay forward,” Roman told him as he slotted his body against his. Placed a hand on his hip, his cock sliding between the boy’s strong wet thighs. He had enjoyed spending hours marking up those thighs. A man could die happy buried between them. He groaned, braced his arms against the slick tile, as Roman fucked between his tight muscles.

“Knew you couldn’t resist,” He muttered, and Roman bit his neck in retaliation, the boy giving a choked-out moan. “Opened myself up before I came over here, thought if nothing else worked I could just get you to take me over the desk,” Roman groaned, grew harder at the mental image of Jason with tears in his eyes, gloves hastily pushed off, fingering himself open while still covered in dirt, while still _grieving_ because he didn’t trust Roman to be gentle with him. What a smart boy. _His_ smart boy. 

He gripped his hip tighter, thrust hard enough that he grazed the underside of his balls as the boy moaned. They never used to be like this. Didn’t remember ever being naked before with him, had typically just gotten his cock out to fuck him.

The boy had liked Roman’s suits on his bare skin, so there was never any problem. But as his hands roamed over his wet, scarred body, punching his dusty pink nipples, as he sobbed, Roman was the one trying to remember if he ever fucked Jason without his gloves on, if this was always the feeling of _his_ boy beneath his hands, the feeling of his ass on his thighs.

“C’mon,” Jason said, “Give it to me, never been gentle before,” never one to let him mouth off too much either, he put the tip of his cock against Jason’s hole, “that’s it.”

Jason was tight around him, Roman sinking in, his hold on Jason’s hip so hard he was sure the boy was going to get bruises. He pulled Jason back to meet his thrusts, his strong thighs supporting their weight, scorching water beating down his back. 

“Ah,” Little huffs and hisses leaving his mouth. “Harder,” He begged, his nails digging into his palms. “Needed this,” Pushing back to meet him. He wanted it to hurt, and Roman could _always_ do that for him. His nails left indents in the boy’s skin, drew blood that the water washed away in an instant.

Who was he thinking of? The Bat? Trying to chase his grief away with a fuck to get him out of his head? Or was he thinking about the way Roman used to fuck him, using him hard and putting him away wet until he wanted to use him again?

Jason knew better than to reach down and touch himself, threw his head back, his eyes rolling in his head as Roman gave quick thrusts that bruised his prostate. “Pleases’ that fell from his mouth that he knew the mobster would ignore anyway.

This was why fucking Jason always went to his head because he knew better than to ask, just took what he gave him, moaned his pleasure like the slut that he was, and waited with those pouty lips and huge green eyes for Roman to take pity on him. He hardly ever did. 

In fact, he bit into the boy’s neck as he came, fucking his release deep inside of him, holding it so that he reminded Jason of who he belonged to, muttering ‘good boy, my boy, _mine_ ,’. Wanted to carve a place for himself inside and out of Jason to keep it. Thought about branding his initials across his heart, closed his eyes as he rested his head against the boy’s shoulder, breathed out through his orgasm. 

Jason turned pleading green eyes onto him once he stepped back, his cock still hard, red and leaking, bobbing under the water. Several options flitted through his head. He could tell Jason to get off by sliding against his wet leg like a dog, not touching him, content to hold that power over him, or he could leave him to stand in the shower, wanting and waiting, turning the water to a cold spray to shock the boy’s senses. But he stared him in his shiny green eyes as he reached over him to grab a white washcloth and then dragged it as rough as he could down his back, Jason arching at the brutal sensation.

He washed the boy in silence. Soap dripping from his curly hair, the white streak bright in its strangeness, soft under his hand. He ran his fingers over all the dark raised scars on his body until he trembled. This was his fighter, _his_ Robin that had come back to him and while the circumstances weren’t ideal, this was what he wanted, Jason to come crawling back to him when it was all said and done. 

Eventually, he stopped touching and teasing Jason, let the soap rinse down the drain, said, “Go wait on the bed for me,” 

Jason nodded, moved from out under the water. He wanted to trace the droplets that pooled in the hollows of his back with his tongue. Let the boy leave the bathroom without a glance back at him. Feet silent, making the entire encounter feel like one with a ghost or a dream.

Roman stood under the spray of the shower until it wrinkled his fingertips. What was it about Jason that made him all impulsive? It was too easy for them to do that after all they’d done to each other, after how cruel they’d been to each other. 

That was half Gotham’s fault, she made cruel men by breaking them and rebuilding them in her image, it’s why they’d both survived for as long as they had. 

He found Jason in the center of his bed, on his stomach, the black silk sheets bunched around his tan body, Roman’s big opulent fur wrapped around him, the material shining everywhere the light hit it. He enjoyed wearing it with his favorite white suit, the weight of it grounding on his shoulders.

Jason turned his head, a small smirk sliding onto his lips as the fur slipped off one of his shoulders, something mischievous lurking in his vibrant green eyes.

Like one of those girls in his old pin-up magazines, he had arranged himself to draw Roman in, had settled back into his role here like he’d never even left, had buried his grief as far as he could get it so he could slip back into who Roman needed him to be. 

This could all go to a man’s head.

“You don’t do anything half-assed, do you?” Roman heard himself ask, Jason’s eyes shuttering close and then back open before he answered. 

“Nope,” He said, popping the p the way you would do a piece of gum. His eyes hooded as Roman came closer to the bed, rose his body up to his knees to put his hands on Roman’s shoulders, dragging him closer, down like a devil dragging a sinner to hell. Lips grazing over his face and neck and chest. There was a black band around his neck, his _collar_ , that Roman had bought him, calling him his loyal dog, his _bitch_. Roman slipped a finger into the sliver ring on it and tugged to hear him pant. 

“C’mon Daddy,” he said, his mouth sliding into a determined line, mean and sharp, alluring, all the same, the shadows under his eyes deeper and darker. Time had changed them, Jason had matured, become an even better killer. Roman couldn’t wait to see what new he could do. “We got work to do.” 

He let Jason kiss him, chaste, well as chaste as they got, and couldn’t help but think about how they would bring New Gotham to her knees.

Then own the new city that they would build, together. 

**Author's Note:**

> sharpbluejay on [twitter](https://twitter.com/sharpbluejay)/[tumblr.](https://sharpbluejay.tumblr.com/) Comments very welcome.


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